


Memories of Garreg Mach

by Hanatamago, sundreigon



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Art Exhibit, Balthuri Week (Fire Emblem), Fantasy, M/M, Mentioned M!Bylitza, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:41:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25777585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hanatamago/pseuds/Hanatamago, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sundreigon/pseuds/sundreigon
Summary: “Well, uh, my family’s always told me that I looked a lot like this King of Grappling guy. Never believed them, thought they were just pulling my leg or some shit, but lookin’ at this painting now, I think they were actually on to something. What about you?”In which there is an art exhibit on display at Garreg Mach University’s Cethleann Galleria, and Yuri learns about the secret fourth house of what was once the Officer’s Academy while meeting an unfamiliar, yet familiar man.Balthuri Week, Day 7 - Modern AU
Relationships: Balthazar von Adalbrecht | Balthus von Albrecht/Yuris Leclair | Yuri Leclerc
Kudos: 24
Collections: Balthuri Week





	Memories of Garreg Mach

**Author's Note:**

> Posting early because I'm incapable of waiting three hours until midnight.

_Dear Garreg Mach Students and Faculty,_

> _The Cethleann Galleria is currently hosting an art exhibit for the next month and a half!_ **_Memories of Garreg Mach_ ** will _contain pieces from the early period of Garreg Mach’s history, from the inception of the monastery and the Officer’s Academy, to the aftermath of the Great Fódlan War._
> 
> _As president of the academic institution that has survived throughout these years, I am urging you all to take a moment to visit this exhibit. You may learn new information about the university’s time as the Officer’s Academy and their original houses, and this newfound knowledge could potentially supplement your studies._
> 
> _Attached is a flyer created by our lovely Galleria curator, Flayn, regarding the exhibit. I will be attending the opening ceremony on the 22nd, and I hope to see you there!_

_Rhea Seiros_

_President of Garreg Mach University_

**Memories of Garreg Mach: An Art Exhibit**

23rd of the Wyvern Moon - 15th of the Ethereal Moon

Open every day from 10 am - 8 pm

**Garreg Mach University, Cethleann Galleria**

**Opening Ceremony:** 22nd of the Wyvern Moon, 5:00 - 8:00 pm

**_Friday, 21st of the Wyvern Moon - Garreg Mach University Union_ **

The prickly hands of an upcoming deadline clouded Yuri’s thoughts. He had been pulling sporadic all-nighters the past week to continue working on his doctorate term project, and any mention of the Cichol Library strongly urged him towards his usual place at the top floor. But he’d done enough of that over the past week. Perhaps a bit too much. Those all nighters were beginning to take their toll on him, and he was exhausted. 

Yuri needed a break. Something to get his mind off of that damn project. Luckily, Byleth had an offer, and when Yuri’s first class was released an hour past noon, he met his dear friend for their usual lunch hangout.

*******

“It’s an interesting exhibit, Yuri,” Byleth said, handing him a croissant. “I think you’ll enjoy it.”

“And what makes you say that, my friend?” Ooh, chocolate. Fantastic taste. “Also, how do you already know about the exhibit?”

“Oh you know, _tutor privileges_. Do you remember how they always mentioned that there were originally three houses in the early days of the university?”

“Black Eagles of Adrestia, Blue Lions of Faerghus, and Golden Deer of Leicester. What about them?”

“Well, there’s a section of the exhibit that may be of interest to you. There was a secret fourth house and their leader reminded me of you.” Byleth smiled. There was a twinkle in his eyes, something knowing, something ancient, but Yuri shrugged it off. It was a quirk of Byleth, having knowledge of topics that weren’t in modern textbooks, and speaking as if he was actually there all those years ago. 

“Uh huh, sure, By. A fourth house? Please, everyone knows there’s only three.” Yuri takes a bite of the croissant. Divine, as always. “The Lamine bakery never misses with their pastries.”

Byleth shrugged. “I’m not everyone. Trust me, Yuri, there were four houses; there have always been.”

Byleth’s phone buzzed and an unearthly cry shook Yuri and the table, the visceral roar of an ancient demonic beast piercing through the amiable atmosphere of their lunch. Ugh, that sound. Byleth had said it was the roar of his favorite enemy from the latest game of this franchise he loved so much, but it didn’t change the fact that Yuri’s insides would freeze and send a surge of chilling warmth through his veins when he heard it. It was a nasty, _nasty_ tune.

Yuri squinted at Byleth as the man picked up his phone. 

“Your ringtone is going to kill me someday, I swear,” Yuri hissed, gripping his croissant a bit tighter. Byleth just laughed before greeting the person calling him.

It was Jeritza on the other end of the line, inviting Byleth over for some baking with his sister and her girlfriend later that night. Of course, Byleth said yes. He never once refused the tall blond, no matter how hard he tried. _He’s so captivating_ , Byleth would say. 

“Hey, gotta go. Mercie’s going to meet me in a few minutes to get the ingredients for tonight.” Byleth stood up, slinging his bag around a shoulder and gathering his trash. “I’ll be at the opening ceremony with Jeritza tomorrow, and I hope you’ll consider checking it out. Even if it’s just for your wolves.”

“Wolves…?”

He leaves with a smile and Yuri is left with an empty seat and a thought.

_There have always been four houses._

It definitely wouldn’t hurt to visit the exhibit. He did need a break after all.

* * *

**_Saturday, 22nd of the Red Wolf Moon - Cethleann Galleria_ **

The opening ceremony of the Memories of Garreg Mach exhibit was incredibly successful. President’s Rhea’s speech invigorated the crowd and the food, courtesy of Kirsten Catering, was delectable. Most of the visitors were eager art and history majors, and everyone inside the Galleria was bustling with cheery excitement. The upbeat melodies of Leicester folk music and the energized discussions of students and faculty greeted Yuri’s ears as he stepped into the Galleria.

“The Ashen Wolves section is in the south hall,” Byleth said, patting Yuri’s shoulder. 

“Ashen Wolves…?” Yuri tilted his head, a bit confused.

“Did you forget already? The fourth house. Text me if you need anything.”

Byleth patted Yuri on the shoulder again before he left with Jeritza, the tall and stoic blond giving a mere nod of acknowledgment in Yuri’s general direction. They were heading towards the west hall, the Black Eagles room, with Byleth pointing to a wickedly curved and segmented relic weapon hanging inside.

_There was a secret fourth house… There have always been four houses._

Visiting the Ashen Wolves section of the exhibit would only take a few minutes, give or take. Just gotta walk to the south hall, look through the pieces for a bit, then go home. No big deal, right?

Meticulously painted silver words hung above the oddly closed door to the south hall. Thin, towering letters decorated the wall with three words: **The Ashen Wolves**. Through the door’s glass, Yuri saw that the walls of the gallery were colored a wisteria purple, the paint speckled with sparkling silver flakes under the room’s shining, warm light. It must be the color of the house. The desaturation was fitting, considering the house had “ashen” in its name.

Yuri approached the door. Each step he took, the Galleria became quieter and it felt like time was somehow slowing down for him. His ears were ringing. Yes, the party was loud, but it wasn’t loud enough for his ears to ring. Yuri’s brain knew there was no immediate danger, that it was just another extension of the art exhibit at the uni, no big deal, but his spirit felt that some sort of balance was off. He couldn’t pinpoint exactly what, but it was just a door! There was definitely something waiting for him on the other side of it, probably a painting or recovered pages from an ancient text that explained the secrecy of the fourth house-- but it was something, and all Yuri had to do was open the damn door.

The door closed with a soft click behind him. The south hall was definitely the least used hall, the detectable, but not overwhelming, smell of dust and musk filtering in through his nose. Three feet from where he was standing was a small table with an informational pamphlet of the section’s pieces. An image of a large, looming black wolf standing over the fractured remnants of the world was on the front page of the pamphlet, beckoning Yuri towards it. He picked one up. 

Compared to the outside, the Ashen Wolves room was much calmer. Peaceful whispers of harmonious notes sparked a feeling of homesickness in Yuri, like piano chords calling him to a familiarity of home that he himself did not quite recognize. Truly, the Ashen Wolves must have been a secret house, for the room only hosted seven pieces. Yuri flipped open the pamphlet.

> _There is not much remaining of the fourth house of Garreg Mach, as most of their records have been damaged or destroyed. Aelfric, a monk once in the service of Garreg Mach, was given Archbishop Rhea’s blessing to create the Ashen Wolves house. The Wolves were located in Abyss, a once bustling town that existed beneath the grounds of the monastery. They had four members, their true names lost to time, with only their monikers keeping their memories alive._

The first piece, appropriately titled _Aelfric_ , was a barely discernible oil portrait of the monk that brought the only iteration of the house together. Half of the canvas was marred by fire, scorching three of the edges and littering the wooden panel with holes. The panel was also warped. How it survived for solong was a mystery to Yuri, and all he could get from the painting was Aelfric’s brown eyes and a terribly cut mullet. There were no other references or images of the monk, so it was a safe assumption that a restoration of this painting, with all of the holes and burnt sections, would not be feasible regardless of cost. 

To the right of _Aelfric_ was another portrait, a woman with amaranth hair and eyes, dark skin, and clad in shades of cadmium green and teal. _The Queen of Beasts_ , as well as the crest of Timotheos was engraved on the plaque below the frame. Yuri froze. _Wait a second._

“Hapi...” 

The Queen of Beasts had a striking resemblance to Yuri’s roommate Hapi, or rather, Hapi had a striking resemblance to the queen. They both carried an expression that said ‘I don’t give a shit,’ and Yuri could just almost hear her typical greeting of ‘Yo’, from the portrait. The painting was immaculate, exuding a quiet, radiant aura that Yuri couldn’t exactly pinpoint. He flipped to the next page of the pamphlet for the description.

> _The true origins of the_ **_Queen of Beasts_ ** _are a hotly debated topic among historians, even to this day. While some accounts found in the journals of King Dimitri of Faerghus, note her birthplace as a 'village hidden deep within the woods of central Fodlan', not a single artifact pointing to such a town's existence has ever been found. These reports also note her as a victim of Cornelia Arnim. She was said to wield very potent dark magic, with a specialty in summoning beasts and monsters to her side with merely a sigh._

With blonde hair that was streaked with lines of purple twisted into thick, bouncy curls; a fair-skinned woman with piercing mauve eyes greeted Yuri as he moved his way along further into the exhibit. She was dressed like royalty, satin and lace interweaving into a brilliant fuschia and purple navy dress, a gallant expression smiling across her face. The plaque below read _The Last Nuvelle_ , accompanied by the ancient crest of Noa.

“This is Constance,” Yuri tells himself, a tinge unsure. The Last Nuvelle definitely had the facial features of his roommate’s girlfriend. “There’s no other person that looks like this.”

> _As the moniker suggests,_ **_The Last Nuvelle_ ** _was the sole survivor of her house after the Dagda and Brigid War brought conflict to the territory. House Nuvelle fell easily due to its noteworthy lack of marital bonds with other houses. Though all Nuvelles were said to be gifted in the arcane arts, she was particularly talented with charms and elemental magics. It is said that her single-minded goal was to become the greatest black mage to grace Fódlan, and thus rebuild her house. Her deep understanding of arcana led to the creation of many new enchantments. It is also said to have been key in demystifying the powers of the_ **_Queen of Beasts_ ** _, who she loved the most._

To the side was another painting, the Queen of Beasts and the Last Nuvelle together in what looked like a wedding painting, the two women dressed in white accented with their typical greens and pinks. Glimmering rings that held two stones of equal color graced their fingers, their foreheads and noses touching with smiles on their faces. There was no further information about the painting in the pamphlet, other than the familiar signature of a world-renowned artist by the name of _I. Victor_ hailing from Leicester.

Yuri stepped back, taking a moment to observe the first four pieces of the Ashen Wolves exhibit. The monk he did not recognize, but the figures of the Queen of Beasts and the Last Nuvelle were too familiar. It was uncanny, the resemblance of the two women to his friends, and he was suddenly filled with a sense of apprehension as the opposing wall containing the last five pieces awaited him.

He slipped the pamphlet under an arm, pressing it flush against his side as he whipped out his phone, fingers blazing through the keyboard. Google. Search. _Reincarnation_.

Yuri didn’t believe in reincarnation, let alone even consider it. He’d heard of spiritual teachings and stories of people being reincarnated throughout the flow of time, but it was bullshit to him. The paintings seemed to tell him otherwise.

Yuri sighed, pocketing his phone and flipping through the pamphlet once more. He decided to read through the descriptions of the last two members of the Wolves, the King of the Underground and the Indomitable King of Grappling, before finishing the exhibit.

> _By all accounts, the_ **_Indomitable King of Grappling_ ** _was thought to be the strongest man in all of Fódlan during his time; possibly ever. While it is unclear what metrics scholars of the time used to judge this, it appears to be undisputed. Some records state that he was once heir to a minor Alliance house, but delegated the leadership to his younger brother for unknown reasons. Though no longer a noble, he still made a name for himself on his own merit during his years on the road. He was soon recognized as the best brawler of the time and later, came to be known as the_ **_King of the Underground_ ** _'s most devoted protector, as well as his most trusted partner._
> 
> _Little is truly known about the_ **_King of the Underground_ ** _. Even his true birth name was lost to time under the dozens of aliases he used in life. Though he used criminal means to further his goals, he was revered as a hero among the downtrodden for his part in making Abyss a safe and self-sufficient community for those who could not live aboveground. Records say that he was exceptionally fair, very intelligent, and more charming than the Goddess herself, but surprisingly crass._

On the other side of the room, Yuri expected to see a similar amount of paintings, but he was surprised to only see one, surrounded by two items crafted from the same material as the weapon he’d briefly seen earlier near the entrance of the Black Eagles room.

Much like the painting of the Queen of Beasts and the Last Nuvelle, the piece of the King of the Underground and the Indomitable King of Grappling depicted an intimate scene between the two. They were nestled in each other’s arms in a gentle embrace, the unmistakable emotion of love and devotion evident in their pose. Surrounded in white flowers and branches gilded in gold leaf, the two wore comforting smiles, and the painter, none other than the acclaimed _I. Victor_ , had masterfully depicted the fierce duo in a loving and vulnerable slice of life. The plaque contained no title, but only the engraving of two crests, Chevalier and Aubin. Oddly though, this one had a year, 1195.

His breath hitched in his throat when he fully recognized the visage of the King of the Underground. Yuri stepped closer, the undeniable streaks of lavender hair against a blushed pale cheek catching his eye first. That was him alright, there was no mistake. A bit older, wiser perhaps, but still as beautiful. The King of the Underground, just as charming as records had said, looked exactly like Yuri. 

To the left of the painting were two massive segmented and curved gauntlets, each one having three spikes that jutted out into the air along the upper guard. Three gruesomely sharp talons protruded from the front. _Vajra-Mushti, the relic of the Indomitable King of Grappling_ . To the right was the complete opposite of the barbaric set of weapons, a single hand accessory that connected each finger of the hand with interlocked chains and bones. _Fetters of Dromi, the relic of the King of the Underground_. It was more intricate, more delicate, but as Yuri cast his eyes upon the relic he felt a sharp pull. From the white light shining on the relic from above, the violet orb embedded into the main plate pulsed an enchanting glow, calling Yuri towards it. 

And then the room went black.

*******

The wisteria walls of the gallery had transformed into brick and stone, white lights wisping to dim candlelight, and the scent of dust intensifying fourfold. People were suddenly bustling through the space, ghosts of the past racing by, voices of old merchants shouting their wares. 

_Abyss_ , he thought almost immediately. Abyss felt oddly like home, but Yuri knew he’d never been there before, let alone even heard of the place before tonight. 

In front of him was the other man in the painting, the Indomitable King of Grappling, and Yuri couldn’t help but look up at him, frozen in place. The man’s eyes were liquid gold, glimmering with specks of sunray and jasper yellow from the warm luminance. His brows were furrowed, his head was tilted to the side, thinking. The grappler seemed to recognize that something was amiss, and Yuri felt his surroundings fade out as he continued to look into his eyes. 

“Balthus…?”

He could feel the grappler reading his thoughts, choosing to vocalize them not even a second later.

“You’re not supposed to be here, pal,” the brawler said, snapping out of his thinking space and sparing Yuri a grin. “Here, lemme give you a hand.”

Balthus walked forward, reaching out to touch Yuri’s face. He leaned forward, planting a kiss on Yuri’s temple, and then the world around him shattered into glass shards. 

“See you around,” the brawler said, lips a hair's breadth away. A point behind Balthus brightens, and everything around them seem to be pulled toward it. Yuri was shot back with a bloom of warmth spreading through his body and a faint, gravelly whisper of his name.

*******

Yuri stumbled backward, colliding hard against what felt like a steel beam, a well built arm wrapping around his waist to stabilize him. What had that been? A vision? Had Yuri been thrown back into time? What had that relic done to him?

His ears rang loudly, throttling his head and hastening his breathing. Damn right he wasn’t supposed to be there in Abyss. Yuri’s not the King of the Underground, he’s just a grad student trying to get some respite from his damn term project deadline. That’s why he’s here at the art exhibit anyway.

Yuri shook his head, hissing at the ringing in his ears.

“Hey? Hey pal, you alive there?” The voice was loud, booming almost, and Yuri recoiled a bit at the sudden burst of that familiar voice from the vision he just had. Yuri was carefully placed onto the ground. The man who caught him ensured that he was stable on his feet before letting him go. “You’ve been out of it for a few minutes pal. Had me worried.”

Yuri sighed, rubbing his eyes and shaking his head. “I’m… _peachy_.” 

“Uh huh, sure. You sure you’re alright?” 

Yuri nodded his head. “I’m alright, thank you.”

The man in front of him had wild black hair tied to a low, loose ponytail, and a hair ornament designed in the shape of an interlocking crown of branches that was delicately, but securely, placed on his head. He had a built, sculpted face and massive figure, like a marble statue, with skin dusted a deep and rich tan. He easily towered over Yuri by at least a head. Chestnut brown, beige, and bisque colored fabric wrapped around his body like a flaming robe, exposing a chiseled chest, and Yuri’s eyes widened when he looked at the man’s eyes. Warm, earthy, gold. He blinked and the man’s outfit transformed into a more modern one, a simple dark brown leather jacket and black jeans. His hair was still tied back, and a pin of a branch was on his jacket.

“Balthus...?” Yuri tipped his head forward, eyes squinting. Much like Constance and Hapi, the man in front of him was identical in appearance to the Indomitable King of Grappling.

“Yeah, that’s my name. You’re Yuri, right?”

“Ah… Yeah...” Yuri trailed off, a finger tapping against his chin in a brief moment of self-reflection. He shot a glance at the portrait of the brawler, and then to the intricate painting of the two kings of the wolves. The man in front of him followed Yuri’s gaze, watching the gears of Yuri’s mind churning as he tried to piece together some sense of understanding from the exhibit. He decided to speak up.

“Well, uh, my family’s always told me that I looked a lot like this King of Grappling guy. Never believed them, thought they were just pulling my leg or some shit, but lookin’ at this painting now, I think they were actually on to something. What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Did any of _your_ family members tell you that you looked like the King of the Underground?” Balthus tapped Yuri on the chest, pushing him back.

Yuri shook his head. “Never even heard of him until today. But hey, friend-- Balthus, yeah?”

“Yep, that’s me. Did you get kissed too hard to already forget my name?” Balthus winked, laughing.

Yuri rolled his eyes. “Anyway, Balthus, friend, you saw that right? Like, you touched the relic,” Yuri pointed to the hand ornament with chains, “and you saw Abyss?”

Balthus nodded, walking over to the front of the massive segmented pair of gauntlets. He threw a thumb towards it. 

“I actually touched this funky lil’ thing. Saw a pretty lil’ guy who looked exactly like you and that painting. Looked at me all funny, then he told me that I wasn’t supposed to be there. Like, no shit, I wasn’t supposed to be there, the hell? Anyway, yeah, he yanked me down and kissed me, then I got yeeted out.”

Balthus crossed his arms, eyes closed as he nodded his head. 

The two stood in silence as they looked back at the painting. There was a tornado of questions swirling in Yuri’s brain. Were they reincarnations of the original Ashen Wolves? Why did the relics call out to them? Why were they sent back to Abyss for a bit? Most importantly, how did the two kings fall in love? Wait, why was _that_ a question?

“I have a lot of questions to ask you, Byleth,” Yuri muttered, running a hand through his hair.

“Woah, wait, Byleth? As in, that pale ass dude with the dark blue hair? The one dating that equally pasty blond guy?”

Yuri’s head tilted up in shock. “Wait, you know Byleth? He’s been a friend of mine since freshman year.”

“Well yeah. He’s my tutor.”

Seconds passed and Yuri threw up his arms, crying out in realization.

“Something wrong, pal?” Balthus asked, placing his hands on Yuri’s shoulders. 

Yuri sighed. “No, not really, just realized something.” He patted one of Balthus’s arms.

“Say, pal, since we’re here and we both know Byleth, wanna check out the rest of the exhibit with me?” Balthus sent another wink in Yuri’s direction. “I mean, clearly that guy had something to do with this.”

Yuri scoffed, laughing. Byleth _definitely_ had something to do with this.

“Sure,” Yuri grinned, curling a finger inwards and beckoning Balthus to the door. “Let’s go.”

Balthus walked forward, turning Yuri around and placing an arm around his shoulders. It was comfortable, not too much weight, and strangely welcome. Like he belonged there. Balthus began describing a pretty nifty branch-like lance relic he saw in the north hall where the Blue Lions were, and Yuri pocketed the pamphlet, expressing interest in a similar relic he remembered from the same house. 

As they departed the south hall, a pair of teal green eyes watched from afar, a smirk on his face and a twinkle in his eye.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanna thank [Hana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hanatamago/pseuds/Hanatamago) for helping me write the pamphlet descriptions for the Ashen Wolves! Words are hard for me, and Hana's so good with them, and I'm very, very thankful that she agreed to help write those sections of the fic. Special thanks to [Jess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jess_B_Fossil/pseuds/Jess_B_Fossil) for beta reading this fic for me! :") Many, many thanks to both of you.
> 
> I also want to thank everyone who participated in Balthuri Week, whether it's with fics in the Balthuri Week Collection or art posted on Twitter! Without you guys, the event I hosted wouldn't be as successful as it is today.
> 
> Additionally, I don't write, I draw things. If you wanna chat, you can talk to me on my [Twitter](https://www.twitter.com/sundreigon), or if you're feeling especially spicy, well, I won't link that here in a gen fic.


End file.
